Undiscovered Magic
by hooksjollyroger
Summary: After being sent back and forth between foster families countless times, a young Emma Swan lives a lonely life tucked away in an orphanage in Boston. Though she knows it will never happen, she dreams of the day when her family shows up and whisks her away from this place. On her eleventh birthday, she finally gets her wish, though certainly not in the way she ever expected.
1. The Stranger at the Door

The light filtered in through the sheer curtains, its warmth spreading across the bedroom and onto the bed on the opposite side of the window. A young girl with a mop of long, curly blonde hair groaned and turned over away from the sunlight in an attempt to get a few more moments of shut eye before Mrs. Teale would be pounding on her door ready to start the day. Sure enough, not a minute later, there was a hard knock coming from the other side of the door.

"Swan! Get up! Now!" Mrs. Teale shouted.

Mrs. Teale was the keeper of the orphanage. While she wasn't exactly a cruel woman, she was strict and very short-tempered. If you did what she told you to do without question, everything would be just fine. But if you didn't do as she commanded right away, you would be punished. Mrs. Teale also did not like anything out of the ordinary. Any disruptions of the order kept within the orphanage would put you on her bad side. And that was the side that little Emma Swan had found herself on for quite some time now.

For as long as Emma could remember, she had been in and out of foster homes, each time returning to this same orphanage. The reasoning of why she had been sent back time after time was something Emma could never really explain. Strange things just always seemed to happen around her. She even wondered at the thought of whether or not she, herself, had been the one to cause some of the mysterious events, often entertaining the idea that she was somehow magical.

_That's silly. There's no such thing as magic,_ Emma would tell herself. _Magic only exists in silly fairy tales and those certainly aren't real._

But Emma still liked to pretend that magic and the lands in her fairy tale books were actually real. In fact, she'd had a recurring dream for as long as she could remember that she was the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming. She would often find herself thinking of how wonderful it would be if they were to one day show up and take her away from the orphanage, blaming their separation on some crazy curse the Evil Queen had cast upon their family.

She would give anything to have that all happen, especially on a day like today - her birthday.

Her bedroom door flew open, banging against the wall.

"SWAN! UP! NOW!"

Mrs. Teale's harsh voice rang in Emma's ears as she heard the keeper stomp away down the hall. She sat up groggily in her bed and rubbed her eyes.

"Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday to me," she sang sadly to herself as she climbed out of bed and got ready for the day.

Before she left the room, Emma picked up her favorite blue crayon and drew a picture of a birthday cake, smiling slightly as she wrote out the number "11" boldly. For some reason, she felt that this was going to be a special day, though she didn't know why. Her lack of friends meant that none of the other kids were going to know what day it was and Mrs. Teale was certainly not going to acknowledge the day. Not in a good way at least.

"Emma Ruth Swan! Get your little ass up here now or you'll have no dinners for a week!"

"Coming, Mrs. Teale," Emma called back as politely as she could.

She took one more look in her dingy mirror and sighed unsatisfactorily before leaving her closet-sized room and walked up the stairs from the basement.

She had been banished down there after her sixth foster family had sent her back to the orphanage with the crazy story of finding Emma playing with a ball of fire. Emma couldn't deny the fact that she held fire in her hand, but she also couldn't explain how she had done that. All Emma could say was how a candle had fallen off the coffee table and she didn't want it to burn the house down so she caught the fire before it hit the carpet. She couldn't explain how she had done that. She just... did.

Grasping the door handle at the top of the stairs, Emma swung the door open into the kitchen where she found the other kids cleaning up the dining table; she had already missed breakfast.

"Well, it's about damn time," Mrs. Teale barked. "Help Sarah with the washing, Emma."

Emma nodded, seeing a look of distaste from the brown-haired girl standing at the sink cast in her direction. She walked over and looked at Sarah, who was quite a bit older than her, for some sort of direction of what she should do.

"Don't just look at me," she said, curling her lip with disgust. "Grab a towel and dry these."

Without saying a word, Emma picked up the raggedy dishcloth and began drying.

It was a beautiful day outside, Emma observed as she looked out the window above the sink. The sky was so clear she could make out the flags flying high about Fenway Park.

Her mind started to wander aimlessly as she continued to dry the dishes. She pictured herself being taken to a baseball game by her father, but instead of them being dressed in their usual prince and princess attire, they were decked out in Red Sox gear. Emma smirked as she imagined her father carrying her in his strong arms into the stadium.

"What are you smirking about?" Sarah demanded. She glanced out the window to see what Emma was looking at and laughed. "No one is ever going to want to go to a game with you. You're a freak, Emma!"

Emma surpressed her desire to cry at Sarah's hurtful words even though she new they were true. She was different. Emma was quite different and honestly, she could't blame the rest of the orphans for not befriending her.

Putting the last of the dry, semi-clean dishes away, Emma shuffled over to the week's chore chart to see what her tasks for the day were. She let out a heavy breath of air that flipped the curls in front of her face when she saw the list.

Emma Swan: scrubbing toilets, dusting game room, mopping upstairs.

It was definitely not going to be a special birthday. These chores were going to take her all day, which meant she wouldn't have any free time to play outside in the nice weather or sit in the grass and read one of her storybooks. With another long sigh, Emma headed to the closet full of cleaning supplies and grabbed a pair of gloves and the brush for the toilet.

The morning passed slowly. No normal kid would've wished for their birthday to pass by quickly, but this just proved once again that Emma Swan was not anywhere near normal. She finished up the toilet scrubbing before having a quick lunch and had now moved on to dusting the giant game room.

As she was cleaning the top of the toy bin, something caught Emma's eye out the front window. She peeled her eyes, but couldn't see anything so she walked closer to the window and peered out. Though the window was covered in dirt and grime, Emma couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. She turned around and walked back to the toy bin, but not before glancing back out the window one more time.

"Swan! What are you doing?" Mrs. Teale asked sharply causing Emma to jump.

"Oh, um, nothing," she said. "I just thought I saw..." She trailed off trying to think.

"Saw what?"

"...something." But she was almost sure it was a someone and not a something.

Mrs. Teale marched to the window and pushed her face so close to it that her nose nearly touched the glass. "There's nothing out there you silly girl," she concluded. "Now get back to work!"

"Yes, Mrs. Teale." Emma continued to dust the toy bin as Mrs. Teale marched out of the game room.

Finishing the cleaning in the game room took her longer than expected because she was constantly distracted by the window, glancing up at it every other minute in hopes that she would see whatever it was that she saw before. By the time she had finished, Emma had convinced herself that her eyes had played a trick on her and she had just seen the bushes out front move in a peculiar way.

Not long after Emma had moved upstairs and begun mopping the floors, the doorbell rang. Emma and Lucy, another girl who had been cleaning alongside her upstairs, stopped when they heard the ding-dong of the bell. No one ever rang the bell unless there was company to be expected, which it was not today. This was a stranger.

Emma and Lucy looked curiously at each other and moved to the top of the landing that overlooked the front door. They watched as Mrs. Teale, a confused look on her face, strode to the door and peered out the peephole at the visitor. Her face became even more scrunched up with mystery as she unbolted the lock and opened the door.

The two girls craned their necks to try and get a look at the person on the other side of the door, but Mrs. Teale hadn't opened it all the way so their view was blocked.

"Can I help you?" Mrs. Teale asked politely, though completely puzzled as to why this person was ringing the doorbell to the orphanage.

The raspy voice of an old man came filtering into the house.

"You are Mrs. Teale, keeper of this orphanage?"

"...Yes."

"Excellent," the man exclaimed. "I was hoping to visit with one of your residents."

"Which one?"

"Miss Emma Swan."

Emma's eyes bugged out of her head at the mention of her name and she felt Lucy's head turn curiously towards her, but she didn't look over at her. She was too busy anxiously awaiting the first glimpse of the man who had come to talk with her.

_Why would a stranger want to speak to me of all people?_ she asked herself. _Doesn't he know I'm a freak?_

Mrs. Teale turned her head around and peered up at Emma, an unsettled look on her face.

"Emma," she called up to her. "There's someone here to see you." Mrs. Teale stepped aside and opened the door widely, allowing the stranger to enter.

A tall, very thin man wearing a strange black cloak walked across the threshold. His silver hair and beard were so long they could've been tucked into his belt and his nose was long and crooked; clearly it had been broken on more than one occassion. His brilliant blue eyes pierced her green ones as they gazed up at her through his half-moon glasses.

"Hello, Emma," the man said pleasantly. "My name is Professor Albus Dumbledore."


	2. Special Gifts

Emma stared down at the old man. Why was he here for her? No one ever came to visit her. No one ever cared for her. She was the weird kid that no one wanted, not even the orphanage.

"Don't just stand there, girl," Mrs. Teale hissed. "Come down so Mr. Dumbledore can speak with you."

Emma set down her cleaning supplies and moved slowly down the stairs. She could feel the eyes of everyone on her and wished they would all just go away.

"Hurry up!"

"There's no rush, Mrs. Teale," Dumbledore said holding up his hand, eyes still on Emma. "I'm guessing you don't get many visitors." The twinkle in his brilliant blue eyes surveyed her and made Emma feel like she was being x-rayed.

She shook her head. "No, sir. I've never had anyone visit me." The man was even taller than he seemed from up on the stairs now that she was standing next to him.

Dumbledore gave a sympathetic smile and turned his attention back to Mrs. Teale. "I wonder if there might be a place Miss Swan and I could speak in private?"

Mrs. Teale looked hesitantly between the old man and the little girl before nodding and leading them out to the back patio. She shooed the girls that were in the yard back into the house.

"Will this do, Mr. Dumbledore?"

"Oh yes, this will do quite nicely," he chimed, though slightly distracted by one of the lawn ornaments that sat in the bushes.

"Let me bring you some refreshments," Mrs. Teale offered.

"There's no need, my dear Mrs. Teale. I don't expect I shall be here terribly long."

The keeper eyed the old professor, as he put it, carefully, though she wondered if he actually was any sort of scholar. "I'll be just inside the doors if you need anything then."

"Thank you." Dumbledore smiled and watched Mrs. Teale walk inside before turning his attention back to Emma. "Let's sit, Miss Swan."

Emma pulled out one of the rusty metal bistro chairs and took a seat opposite of him. Unsure of what to say, she tapped her feet together under the table waiting for Professor Dumbledore to say something, but he seemed thoroughly entertained with the garden gnome whose legs pedaled a bike whenever the wind blew or someone touched it. Emma giggled softly at the display.

Dumbledore flicked his eyes back to her. He sat straight in his chair, bringing his long fingers together under his nose.

"Miss Swan, I am assuming you do not know why I am here." Emma shook her head. "Nor who I am." She shook her head again. "Well, as I said before, I am a professor. Do you know what a professor is, Emma?"

She nodded. "A teacher."

"That's right, a teacher," he said. "I'm a professor at a very special school in England called Hogwarts."

Emma chuckled at the funny name. "What kind of a school is Hogwarts?"

He surveyed her once more. "Well, it's a school for very special and gifted boys and girls like yourself."

"Me?" Emma's eyes grew wide. "I'm not special, Professor Dumbledore. I'm different. I'm... weird. That's why no one wants me."

"Why do you think you're different?"

Emma didn't know what to say. Everyone she's ever told about her "incidences" has thought she was crazy. What makes this man any different? Yet, somehow, she felt, for the first time in her life, that this man would understand her. He would believe her. Those blue eyes of his seemed to be able to look straight through her and know her secrets.

Dumbledore sat in the chair looking at Emma, waiting patiently for response. He was sure no one had ever asked her this question before and even though he knew the answer to it, he wanted her to say it.

"I can do things," Emma said finally. "Things that other kids can't."

"What kinds of things?"

She hesitated. Was this some sort of trap? Was this man really some sort of doctor here to take her away and lock her up? She looked straight back into his intense eyes, trying to catch any sort of sign that he wasn't who he said he is. She had always had a knack of being able to tell when people were lying. All the years of being told she was loved when she really wasn't had given her this sixth sense. But something in her gut was pounding and telling her that this man, this "Professor Dumbledore", was here to help her.

"I've held fire in my hands," Emma confessed. "I can make things move without touching them."

Dumbledore did not move or flinch or show any sign that these things were abnormal. Instead, he presented her with another question.

"And did all of these things happen when you were feeling intense emotions?"

Emma thought back to all the times some strange event had occurred. How did he know so much about her? No one has ever understood her more than this man and she had only been made aware of his existence less than an hour ago.

"Perhaps when you were angry or scared?" he suggested.

"Yeah," Emma said. "Usually when I'm scared or crying. Sometimes when I'm really happy too."

Dumbledore smiled. "Did you know there are other children like you, Miss Swan?"

Her eyes widened. That was impossible. There couldn't be other people like her. If there was, then why did everyone think she was such a freak?

"There are?" she asked.

"Oh yes," Dumbledore said. "There are many children like you, gifted and special. And that's why I've come. I want you to come and study at Hogwarts."

"Study? Study what?"

"Magic."

"Magic?" Emma couldn't believe it. All these years of wishing and pretending that she was magical and here was a man, a professor, sitting across from her, telling her that magic does exist and he wants her, Emma Swan, to come and learn how to use it. This was too good to be true.

"You want me to come study magic?" She struggled to find words. "But I'm... I'm just a girl. I don't know anything. I'm not special."

"But you are special." Dumbledore lowered his hands and leaned forward on the table. "You're a witch, Emma."

Emma sat dumbfounded in her chair. Was this really happening? Was she really a witch? Was this man one too?

"Are you like me, Professor Dumbledore? Are you magical?"

He smiled, his eyes twinkling. "I am." He withdrew a long stick, curiously shaped with many bumps along it, and waved it at the ground. In an instant, a pebble that was sitting next to the foot of the table was transformed into a snail.

"Whoa," Emma gasped. "You can teach me to do that?"

"Yes," Dumbledore said, stowing away his magical wand inside his cloak. "You'll be able to learn many things, but more importantly, how to control the magic you have inside you."

Emma could hardly contain her excitement. If someone had come along last week and told her that she was a witch, she would've thought they were crazy. But now that he had said it, she believed it. It made complete sense. She could feel deep in her bones that this was what she was always meant to do.

"Can we go to Hogwarts now?" she asked eagerly.

Dumbledore smiled at her enthusiasm. "Unfortunately, term has already begun so you will have to wait until next year." Emma's excitement dropped from her face. "But," he continued, "I'd like for you to come to England so you can begin to experience what our world is really like."

"Will I get to stay with you, Professor Dumbledore?"

"No," he said simply. "My place is at the school, but I have arranged for a very nice family to take you in and help you begin to learn and understand how the wizarding world works. If you are willing, of course."

"Yes please!"

"Very well then. A couple more things before I depart."

He reached into his cloak and pulled out a yellow envelope with bright green ink written on it and handed it to Emma. She reached out and took it from Dumbledore's long fingers.

It was very thick. She turned it and read the address:

Emma Ruth Swan  
Basement Bedroom  
815 Apple Lane  
Boston, Massachusetts  
United States of America

She flipped the envelope over and broke the seal. Inside were several pieces of the same colored parchment. Emma unfolded them and read the top one aloud.

"Dear Miss Swan, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment." Emma leafed through the other pages briefly before returning to the letter. "Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl by no later than July 31st. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall."

She looked up at Dumbledore curiously. "Owl?"

"It's how we send letters in our world."

"With... an owl?"

Dumbledore chuckled and stroked his beard. "You'll learn everything in due time, Emma. For now, consider me your owl." He peered at her over his half-moon glasses waiting to see if she had any more questions. When she didn't say anything, he continued. "Now, Miss Swan, there is one thing I need you to do."

"Anything, Mr. Dumbledore."

"It is gravely important that you don't speak a word of this to anyone, do you understand?" The protection of our world is very important and most people, like those you live with here in the orphanage, would not understand. So you must keep this a secret."

Emma nodded. "But when will I be leaving?"

"In a fortnight. Can you have all your things prepared by then?"

Emma nodded again.

"Very good." Dumbledore rose from his seat, Emma following his lead. "Now, I must return to Hogwarts."

"Did you fly here?"

"No."

"How did you cross that big ocean then?"

"It is far too complicated of a process to explain now, but you will find out soon."

Emma left the question alone and led Dumbledore back inside where Mrs. Teale had been spying on them through the kitchen window.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Mrs. Teale," Dumbledore chimed when they entered.

"What did you want to see her for?"

"I merely wanted to get to know Miss Swan. I have heard so much about her."

Mrs. Teale peered down at Emma who smiled up at her as innocently as possible. "You've heard of her?"

"Oh yes, but I haven't the time to discuss it now, I'm afraid."

He continued to walk through the kitchen into the hallway towards the front door. Mrs. Teale and Emma followed behind him. Emma could again feel the eyes peering out from behind doors and the stair railing as the three of them walked down the hallway. Dumbledore paused when he reached the door and turned to face Mrs. Teale and Emma.

"You can expect some adoption papers to be coming through for Emma soon, Mrs. Teale."

Mrs. Teale shook her head out of shock. "A-Adoption papers? For Emma? Did I hear you right?" Dumbledore nodded. "You want to adopt Emma?"

"Not me personally, though she is a very sweet, lovely young lady, but I have a couple who has been looking and Emma is a perfect fit for them."

Mrs. Teale opened her mouth but no sound came out. Dumbledore gazed down at Emma, his brilliant blue eyes twinkling more than ever.

"I expect I shall be seeing you soon, Miss Swan. Please take care until then."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Dumbledore."

With that, he turned on his heel and moved swiftly out the door. They watched him walk down the front path and around the corner. Emma swore she heard a faint _pop!_ and ran out after the professor, but saw no sign of him when she looked around the corner.

She stood there for a moment gazing down the street wondering to herself if it all of this had just been a dream, but then she felt the parchment in her hand. Holding it up, she read her name on the front of the envelope and felt the wax seal on the back as she turned her head and looked at the orphanage. It was all real. It was really happening. She was finally getting away from this place to a whole new one with people who were just like her. Never in her life had Emma Swan felt more accepted than she did at that very moment. Clenching the envelope in her hand tightly, she tucked it underneath her shirt and walked back into the orphanage. She had a lot of packing to do and only two weeks to do it.


End file.
